


Seeking Absolution

by borrowedphrases



Category: Kamen Rider Gaim
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 12:52:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1983693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borrowedphrases/pseuds/borrowedphrases
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mitsuzane knows he can't expect forgiveness for everything he's done, but he tries to set some things right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seeking Absolution

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a private fic writing exercise using [Fandom ‘Kink, Trope and Cliche’ Random Prompt Generator](http://panthermoon.com/generators/kink.php).
> 
> The Prompt was: _Penance or reform (bad boy turns good; evil seeks to change; **performing acts of atonement or restitution** ; self-mortification; martyrdom; selflessness; apologies or **apology sex** ) _

He moves slowly, carefully working his way from the angry old scar on Takatora's shoulder downward, especially gentle with each persisting trace of injury his brother received when he fell in Helheim. He pays extra care to the burn scar over Takatora's heart - he didn't cause that one, nor most of them, not directly, but he didn't try to stop it either.

He brushes his lips softly against each trace of scar tissue, pressing lingering kisses and, when he feels a little bit bold, gliding his tongue over them, and then blowing across them to cool and sooth Takatora's skin. He even does this with Takatora's old appendicitis scar, something his brother had before Mitsuzane was born.

The last one he presses a kiss to is the one on his face, not as pronounced as the others, not as noticeable, but it's there if you know what to look for, a thin pale line a few shades lighter than his brother's skin.

Mitsuzane knows what to look for. And even if there was no scar, he would still know where to kiss the memory of that wound.

"Mitsuzane..." Takatora's voice is restrained, cautious as always, and a little bit nervous. Mitsuzane can't blame him for that, not after everything he's been through.

"Please, Niisan," Mitsuzane's hand trails down Takatora's chest to his belt, hand shaking and fingers fumbling as he works the buckle open. "Just let me do this for you."

It won't make up for all he's done, won't make up for _anything_ he's done, but maybe he can ease the hurt a little, maybe he can make some small part of it all right again. Somehow mend the bond he used to have with his brother, help his brother to trust him again, like he used to.

Like he never should have.

Takatora searches Mitsuzane's face, one hand sliding into his hair, combing through it gently, like how he used to coax him to sleep after a bad dream, or when he would fall and scrape his little knees. "Only if you're certain."

Mitsuzane doesn't answer, not with words. He kisses the corner of his brother's mouth, undeserving of a proper kiss, and then moves back down Takatora's chest, placing light kisses along his breastbone, over his stomach, to the soft place just between his hip bones. He works Takatora's slacks open, hears his brother sigh, then hiss through his teeth, when he tries to hide a gasp as Mitsuzane's hand rubs him through his underwear. He glides his palm - still shaking, still nervous - along the length, then rubs in slow circles, coaxing heat and hardness beneath his touch.

Mitsuzane looks up as he tugs Takatora's underwear aside, watches his brother's face as he touches him skin to skin. His cheeks are flushed and he's biting his lip, but his eyes are open, watching, fully aware of who's touching him.

Mitsuzane licks his lips, and nods once, more to answer himself and his own fears, his own guilt and shame after past sins, than anything his brother might be wondering. Then he tucks his head down, covers his teeth with his lips, and takes as much of his brother's arousal into his mouth as he can.

It's slow, what follows. Mitsuzane is unskilled, and Takatora refrains from coaxing him beyond a gentle hand in his hair and a few soft sounds to indicate something especially pleasurable - like when he swirls his tongue around the head, or when he briefly takes him in so deep he can't breathe - Mitsuzane keeps his tongue and his mouth moving slowly, because he wants this to last, wants his brother's pleasure to last as long as possible, wants his cheeks to burn with shame as long as possible. Not that the action is inherently shameful, not at all, but Mitsuzane knows he doesn't deserve this, doesn't deserve Takatora's trust in this.

" _Mitsuzane_." Takatora's hand clenches in warning, but Mitsuzane doesn't stop. He hollows his cheeks and rolls his tongue, his hand twisting around the base of the shaft, until he feels his brother's release coat the back of his tongue and spill down his throat. It's only after Takatora's hips have stopped shaking, and his hand has gone loose in his hair, that Mitsuzane pulls away.

He has just time enough to lick his lips and swallow before Takatora is leaning down and tugging him up, pulling him in against his chest and wrapping his arms around him tight. He can feel Takatora's chin on the top of his head, just the same as when he was a child, and he curls in close. He chokes a little, fighting back sobs, and hides his tears against his brother's throat.

"Niisan… I'm so… I'm so _sorry_."

Takatora hushes him, and rubs at his back. Slow, soothing circles. Mitsuzane doesn't _deserve_ it, he knows this, but it feels good all the same. Takatora doesn't say anything, but it feels like forgiveness, or the movements toward forgiveness, and Mitsuzane slowly gives in to exhaustion and sleep.

 

Mitsuzane wakes with a start, blinking in the dim light of the office as the whispers of his dreams retreat to the shadows of his vision. He sits up in his chair and rubs at his eyes, trying to bring the waking world into proper focus.

Redyue is there, her staff resting atop his desk where she slammed it. Her face is as expressionless as always, but Mitsuzane can almost hear a teasing note in her words. "Pleasant dreams?"

All Mitsuzane can do is glare at her before she turns and strides out of the office. He leans back in his chair after she's gone, and rubs at the center of his chest. There's a great knot of tension there, like a pulled muscle, or a strain, and he's not sure where it came from.

He must still be sore from his fight with Takatora, that has to be what it is.


End file.
